


Eleven Months

by 14winters



Series: Only Love [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Eleven months' worth of missing scenes that I as a Stoncy shipper think I deserve, F/M, Marijuana, Missing Scene, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn Stoncy, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14winters/pseuds/14winters
Summary: Nancy tells Steve some of the truth about what happened before they fought the monster. From there, the three teens begin to navigate a strange new friendship.





	1. A Present

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of my headcanon of what happened during those eleven months between 1x08 and 2x01 between Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan.
> 
> My view of Steve's character is greatly inspired by my friend's fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12634767/chapters/28789404), please go read it if you can!

After Will Byers came back, and Barb didn’t, Nancy kept her distance. Steve knew it was because of Barb, but also suspected it was because of Jonathan, too. Neither of them ever told him why they had teamed up that night, what had led to it, but Steve made the connection when two weeks before Christmas, Nancy brought up the camera.

She hadn’t been to school for a week after it happened. Then she’d given him the excuse she couldn’t have any distractions while trying to catch up with her schoolwork before the final tests of the semester. It made sense, Nancy was all about keeping her grades up. 

She allowed him to do homework next to her in the library at school though, and sometimes they’d pass notes back and forth to avoid disturbing anyone—and to avoid distracting Nancy too much. It had been Steve’s idea. He’d write a small message on the margin of his notebook and push the notebook toward Nancy until she looked at it. She’d scribble back in her small cursive writing and get quickly back to work. Her handwriting was always pretty no matter how fast she wrote, and Steve only kept writing notes to her because it got a smile out of her, and was better than complete silence.

The week before finals, when they were each almost done with their study guides, she wrote him a note that surprised him.

_I want to talk to you about Jonathan. It’s about his photos._

He looked up at her after reading the note, his entire body tense, anger beginning to boil just beneath the surface. She must’ve noticed immediately because she took back the notebook and scribbled another message.

_It has to do with Barb._

His anger became confusion, and as soon as he looked up at her, she locked eyes with him and nodded. Then began packing her things.

For once, when they each got into his car in the school parking lot, he turned off the radio. He peeled out of the parking lot without looking at her, but peripherally he could see her fiddling with a strand of her hair, something she always did when she was nervous and didn’t have her hair put up. He’d seen her do it around him when he first started flirting with her. Was that only three months ago?

He waited for her to break the silence. She glanced at him once, twice. He began tapping the steering wheel, trying not to look at her.

“The day you tore up Jonathan’s photos, I saw something in one of them,” she said finally, her words quick and tense.

“Something?” he said, glancing at her. Her eyes were wide, on the road in front of them, but he knew she wasn’t seeing it.

“That…thing. That thing we fought. Jonathan had gotten a picture of it. Behind Barb.”

Her voice broke on Barb’s name.

He was clenching the steering wheel with both hands now. All he wanted to do was hold her, but he knew he had to let her keep talking.

“That’s why you saw us together. We went back to the woods behind your house…to…to look for it. And—” Her voice broke, but when he glanced over again her eyes were dry. Still, he reached his right hand over to her, palm up, and felt her take it. Her small hands had one of the strongest grips he’d ever felt. He loved that about her. But her skin was cold. He held on tight.

“Remember how it came down from the ceiling? It could do that in the forest too. There was a hole, in this tree and I… It went to where Will was. But when I was there, all I saw was that monster. And Jonathan, Jonathan got me out. He saved me from it.”

Her voice grew hard on the last words, and she was staring at his profile. Her stare felt like a loaded gun, moving closer and closer to his face. Her grip remained tight on his hand. They were nearly to her house.

He slowed down as they entered the neighborhood, and gave her a longer look. She almost stared at him from beneath her lashes, her being so much shorter, but Nancy had a way of using her eyes to freeze people. She looked both stern and soft at the same time, her eyes dry but her expression tense with bottled emotions. He knew what that felt like.

“And that’s why he went back with you to your house?” he said, keeping his tone neutral and looking back at the road.

His expression must’ve made her realize how stiff she’d become, and her grip loosened on his hand, but she didn’t let go of him.

“He was going to sleep on my bedroom floor. But I wanted him next to me. So he slept beside me. Above the covers. Nothing happened,” she said, her voice oddly blank.

He made the last turn before he’d reach her house. “Nance, I know that nothing happened. You didn’t…” He sighed. “You didn’t have to tell me this.”

There was a long stretch of silence as he pulled over in front of the Wheeler’s house, turned off the car, and took off his seatbelt. Then he turned to Nancy.

Her hands were clasped in her lap. She was looking down.

“You know why I didn’t tell you the truth before you and Jonathan fought,” she said, not looking up. “You wouldn’t have believed me.”

He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear. It worked, and she looked at him. Still too stiff, guarded, but firmly in control. That was Nancy.

“You’re right. But I do now,” he said, not taking his eyes off her face. She looked out the window, down at her hands again. Then she turned her body to face him.

“I wanted you to trust me before I asked you this. I wanted you to know the truth. Jonathan and I, we just want to be friends. And I want you to be okay with that,” she said, her words coming out quickly, but evenly.

Their eyes were locked, and he had the feeling she wanted to make it into a staring contest. Nance had a competitive spirit, he often wondered why she never got involved in sports.

He gave her a small smile. “Of course I trust you, Nance. After seeing you handle a gun with that thing, how could I not?”

He got the first smile out of her in what seemed like days. She looked away briefly, thinking over her next words.

“I want us to get Jonathan a new camera,” she said, turning back to him, still smiling.

He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure,” he said, giving a one-shoulder shrug, and turning to open his car door.

Nancy put her hand out and touched his arm. He stopped and looked back at her. She was grinning.

“Steve, you’re really going to help me with this?” she said, her voice louder with her excitement.

He took her hand that was on his arm and put it at the back of his neck, pulling her closer, until their noses touched.

“I owe Jonathan a lot. More than I thought. And he’s your friend. I want to get him a new camera,” he said, his voice solemn despite his smile.

Nancy’s smile grew wider, her eyes crinkling in her delight, before she kissed him. Her fingers went into his hair, and suddenly the small space between them in his car was far too much. It was the first real kiss they’d had in weeks.


	2. The Locker

It was the first day back to school after winter break. Steve had his arm around her, and they were walking up the steps to the high school.

Nancy didn’t know what to think about. She was scared, but it was a fear she’d never had before, and she didn’t know how to describe it. She watched the clouds of her own breath rise in front of her and had the irrational thought that she wanted to stay outside in the Indiana winter all day rather than walk into that school.

She must’ve slowed because Steve looked down at her.

“What is it, Nance?” His voice was soft, comforting, like it had been so many times these past few weeks. But it didn’t slow her heart down. Or her breathing.

She stopped walking. Other students moved around them, a seemingly never-ending wave of movement.

“I…I need a second,” she said, a panic beginning to rise. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and suddenly it was all she could think about. That and—

Steve was guiding her to the side, toward the railing, out of the constant stream of students. He leaned against the railing and kept his arm around her. She stepped closer and smelled his shampoo and that hairspray he liked so much, the one he’d never let her mention by name.

Never let her mention…She couldn’t talk about Barb. Even if she wanted to. She wasn’t supposed to.

She buried her face in the front of Steve’s coat, the softness of his scarf catching her tears before they fell.

“Hey, hey,” Steve whispered, his hand rubbing her back, at first hesitant, but then with firm strokes. Her shoulders shook with a suppressed sob.

“We can go home, Nance. Give you one more day,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She took a deep breath, then another, trying to will her heartbeat to slow down. Finally she leaned back and looked up at Steve, shaking her head.

“No, I just needed a second,” she said, making her voice firm, rubbing at her wet eyes with a gloved hand. The scratchy fabric against her thinnest skin brought her back to herself a little. She was just going to school. Nothing bad would happen. Steve was with her.

Steve just kept looking at her, that soft look that made her want to hug him and not let go. So she turned away from him, took his hand, and began walking up the steps again. He let her lead him, staying close.

-

Nancy and Barb had had a different home room, and so their lockers weren’t close. But eventually, once Nancy learned her schedule, she knew she’d have to pass it.

She made sure Steve was with her. The number of Barb’s locker was etched in her mind. So as soon as Steve gave her his own schedule, she memorized that too.

And somehow she remembered where Jonathan’s locker was. Just before ninth period, she passed it, and saw him. They locked eyes, and she made her way toward him.

“Jonathan, hi,” she said, smiling up at him, a strange relief falling over her. They hadn’t spoken since she’d given him the camera over break.

He smiled back, that close-mouthed smile that reached his eyes, telling her he was truly pleased.

“Hey. How was your break?” he said, adjusting his backpack over one shoulder, closing his locker.

“Fine. It was…fine,” Nancy said, looking away briefly, thinking of how she’d seen Barb’s parents the day after Christmas. The presents for Barb still under their tree… She shook her head.

“How was yours? How is the camera?” she said, looking back at him, trying not to look too worried.

“It’s great, thank you,” he said, his smile widening.

Nancy felt familiar hands on her shoulders and heard Steve’s voice, “Yeah? The salesman told us it was good, but honestly I couldn’t understand most of what he said.” Steve gave an easy laugh, and his hand appeared in her line of vision, directed toward Jonathan.

“You’ll show us some pictures you’ve taken with it, yeah?” Steve said as Jonathan shook his hand, his expression guarded. But at Steve’s words his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Oh…yeah, yeah I can show you guys. If you want, Nancy…?” Jonathan looked to her, and she looked at Steve, wanting to see his expression.

Steve had a small smile on his face, and he didn’t look tense…maybe this was a good idea. “Yeah, definitely, I want to see them. You’ve never told me what you like taking pictures of, Jonathan,” she said, the realized what she said. She rushed to add, “And I told Steve about the picture you took of Barb.”

Steve’s hand tightened on her right shoulder. Jonathan immediately looked to Steve, then back to her. Her heart was pounding again. Her palms were sweaty, so she clenched her hands into fists, ignoring the mindless panic. She locked eyes with Jonathan and nodded, trying to smile reassuringly.

The warning bell rang.

Jonathan raised one hand in a final wave, backing away. “I’ll see you guys later, ‘kay?” And before Nancy could do more than wave back, he’d turned away.

“I gotta get to gym, Nance,” Steve said, and he came around to give her a swift kiss, a brief smile, and then he was gone too.

Nancy tried to catch her breath, wondering what she’d just done. Steve hadn’t seemed upset…had he? And Jonathan… was he upset she’d said anything?

She made her way to her ninth period, her mind still going in too many directions. Steve had made the initial invitation, so she hadn’t done anything wrong. Right? And Jonathan had accepted after asking her… or did he?

The final bell rang and Nancy realized she was late.  


  



	3. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I wasn't kidding when I said this was slow-burn. The next chapter is already outlined, so it shouldn't take as long for me to write as this one did. Also Joyce is the Cool Mom™ and I don't know what to tell you if you don't agree.

Jonathan wasn’t sure how he’d invited Nancy _and Steve_ to his house. One minute he’d been telling Nancy that his new camera was great, the next he’d been inviting to show them his photography?

Walking out of his ninth period, he went over the conversation again in his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, wondering what in the hell had made him agree.

It was the both of them, staring at him. The last time he’d seen Nancy and Steve together, they’d been at his house and had just finished trapping and burning a monster from another dimension. Then when Will had been recovered by Hopper and his mom, they’d all gone to the hospital. Steve had gone with them because… well why not? After fighting that monster, saving their lives, or at least Jonathan’s life, Steve deserved to know if Will was okay, just as much as Mike, Dustin, and Lucas did.

Jonathan went to his locker, and it took him three tries to open it. Steve’s reactions made no sense to him. But then, the older boy had never made sense to Jonathan.

And now Nancy has told him about the photograph I took of Barb and the monster…so what? He already got me a new camera, he can’t be thinking he still owes me anything.

But what else had Nancy told him?

The whole situation made Jonathan uneasy. Swinging his backpack over one shoulder, he made his way toward the front doors, barely looking up. So when Steve stopped him right outside on the steps, he nearly ran into him.

“Hey, Jonathan,” Steve said, stepping in front of him. He brought his hand up as if to touch Jonathan’s shoulder, but stopped short, dropping his hand to his side. Then he lifted it again only to run it through his hair. Jonathan looked at him, waiting.

“I wanted to talk to you about, uh, something,” Steve said, glancing at him and then away. Jonathan followed his gaze and spotted Nancy standing on the passenger side of Steve’s car. She had a small book open in front of her, and was casually reading as if she wasn’t standing in below freezing weather.

“It’s about what Nancy told me,” Steve said, drawing Jonathan’s gaze back to him. “She told me you, that back in the woods, you saved her from that—that place, and the, uh.” He ran his hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away again. Jonathan shoved his hands in his coat pockets, fighting not to fidget himself.

“That thing, you know, so I. I just. I wanted to thank you,” Steve finished, finally looking back at Jonathan’s face.

Jonathan blinked once. He could not understand the other boy’s behavior.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Steve. You did the same for us,” Jonathan said, biting his lip, not sure if he should say more.

Steve nodded, looking at the ground now. The rush of students around them was thinning.

Then it occurred to Jonathan. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my photos, you know. If you said that just to—to make Nancy happy. You didn’t have to,” Jonathan said, keeping his eyes steady on Steve’s face, wondering how he’d react.

Steve surprised him again. His eyes jerked up to him, and he looked surprised, almost hurt.

“What? No, man, I want to see them. This isn’t about that. I just knew that—oh son of a bitch.” Steve rolled his eyes, put one hand on his hip. In the cold air, his sigh rose up in a cloud above his head. “I knew Nancy wouldn’t say anything to you about what she told me, so I wanted to, alright?”

Jonathan felt his face heating, and immediately hoped the cold was hiding it. “Oh. Okay. Um. Do you guys wanna come over on Sunday? Whatever time works. Nancy has my phone number.”

Steve actually smiled, his shoulders visibly relaxing with relief. “Yeah, I’ll get a time from her, we’ll let you know.”

And he reached out and squeezed Jonathan’s shoulder briefly, before turning away and almost loping down the steps, his ridiculously stylish hair flopping in the wind. Jonathan dared one last glance at Nancy, and saw her watching Steve approach, a clear smile on her face, no doubt at the sight of Steve’s expression. Steve was still smiling.

Jonathan looked after him, shook his head once, and made his way to his own car.

 

-

 

Pulling up to the Byers house Sunday afternoon, Steve asked himself for the dozenth time what the hell he was doing here.

He kept telling himself this was for Nancy. But then what had he lied to Jonathan’s face for?

And this hadn’t been Nancy’s idea. It had been his. He had asked Jonathan if they could come see his photography.

And so they were. At one in the afternoon, while Steve still had math and English homework. That Nancy was going to help him with. “Help” involving frequent breaks where he’d kiss her neck and make her laugh. Nancy hadn’t laughed much lately. He couldn’t really blame her.

As he turned off the car, he felt her turn to stare at him. He looked at her. She had that deer-in-the-headlights look, wide eyed, but not showing any real emotion.

“Are you okay, Nance?” he said, watching her closely.

She blinked a couple times, looked out the windshield at Jonathan’s house, then back to him. “I’m fine, I just…it’s weird being back here after everything. Isn’t it?” she said, her brows drawing together.

He reached out and put his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing his thumb and forefinger in a soothing motion. She blinked slowly, looked down. She was so tense. It seemed all the time she was tense.

“We can leave whenever you want to,” he said, infusing his voice with a soft patience that usually got Nancy to calm down.

She gave a small smile before looking back up at the house. “It’ll be fine. Jonathan mentioned to me yesterday how everything has been repaired. New wallpaper and everything. You can’t even tell there was a fire.”

And she leaned over and kissed him soft and quick on the mouth, before getting out of the car.

Steve didn’t know why he was surprised at Ms. Byers’ enthusiastic welcome. She _had_ hugged him at the hospital, after Will had woken up and she’d come into the waiting room to thank everyone.

And she hugged him again now, him and Nancy, as if they were, well, family. Or what Steve imagined family was supposed to be like.

She told them Will was at the Wheelers’, and she was about to go run some errands, so they’d have the house to themselves. For some unexplainable reason this made Steve’s face heat, but Ms. Byers was opening the fridge and Nancy was turned away from him. So he ran his hand through his hair and tried to push the lingering unease out of his brain. What was he doing here?

“We have Pepsi… orange juice, 7Up…” Joyce bit her lip and leaned closer to the fridge. “Only two Budweiser’s left…”

Steve’s face got even hotter. Nancy made a small sound that could’ve been a squeak or the beginning of a word, he wasn’t sure.

“Mom! We’re not going to drink,” Jonathan came into the kitchen, looking more put out than embarrassed. He turned his head to smile at him and Nancy before going up to Ms. Byers.

She waved her hand and made a dismissive sound, smiling up at Jonathan. “You know I wouldn’t mind, Jonathan. As long as you kept it here. But you can’t do much with two beers anyway. Did you think of anything else we need at the store?”

“Not beers,” Jonathan muttered, trading places with his mom to peer into the fridge. “Did you write down eggs? And the cheese Will likes?”

“Yep,” Joyce said, grabbing up her purse from the counter and pawing through it. “Have you seen my keys?”

“They’re by the toaster, Ms. Byers,” Nancy said, pointing to them.

“Ah, thank you, sweetie.” Joyce scooped up the keys, swept past him and Nancy, waved at them all as she went out the door. She smiled so big but somehow it never appeared forced. Steve marveled at how she did that.

After the door shut, Jonathan sighed behind them. “You can have the last beers if you want, she wasn’t joking.”

Steve turned to look at him, and his lanky form was still leaning into the fridge, as he took out a Pepsi for himself. He wore just jeans and a gray t-shirt, and it struck Steve he’d never seen Jonathan in short sleeves. The guy was literally always wearing a jacket. His arms weren’t as lanky as Steve had imagined.

Well you did see him hold a monster back from eating his face, Steve thought.

“I’ll have a beer,” Nancy said, walking up to stand by Jonathan.

There was a moment of silent hesitation between both boys. Steve automatically wanted to protest, but why should he? He was the one driving them home later.

Jonathan looked at Nancy’s face, her serious, wide-eyed expression, almost daring him to say no. He handed her the beer.

“I’ll just have a Pepsi,” Steve said.

Jonathan grabbed a second Pepsi, closed the fridge, and turned to hand the can to Steve. Their fingertips touched for maybe milliseconds. Jonathan’s were cold, and Steve wondered why the hell he cared.

Nancy was staring at them over the rim of her beer can, her arm crossed over her stomach, almost defensively. Steve fought down another urge to ask her if she was okay.

Nancy and Jonathan stood only a few feet apart, and Steve noticed their height difference wasn’t as big as the one between him and Nancy. But still Nancy looked tiny. The last time he’d seen them side by side, without flashing Christmas lights and a monster after them, it had been through Nancy’s bedroom window. She had looked just as small then, obviously upset and wrapped in Jonathan’s jacket. His stomach turned at the memory, a nauseating mix of hurt and shame.

Jonathan had shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have to develop my photos at school, but I can show you what I took over break,” he said, looking at Steve.

Steve blinked several times, pushing the uneasy memories away, and nodded. “Yeah, sure. You’ll have to explain to me how you develop them, I got no idea how that works.”

Jonathan shook his head once. “It’s not that complicated.” He shrugged while still keeping his hands in his pockets, then looked at Nancy. So did Steve.

Nancy was staring at some point past Steve, and there was a look on her face that put Steve immediately on edge. He took a step toward her, fighting not to turn and see what she was looking at.

“That’s where that thing had Jonathan pinned down,” Nancy said, indicating the space with the hand holding her beer.

So Steve turned and saw the living room, and though it was neat and clean, no Christmas lights in sight, a chill went through him as the memory came back. He automatically looked up at the living room ceiling, where of course nothing moved.

“Jonathan, do you have my bat still?” Nancy asked, and Steve turned back to see her sipping her beer, staring at Jonathan.

“Uh, no actually. I thought you had it,” Jonathan said, his expression oddly blank as he looked between Nancy and Steve.

“I have it,” Steve said, his face reddening again as he realized he’d never told Nancy. “Um, do you want it back, Nance?”

Nancy’s brows drew together. “Where?”

Steve was tempted to press the cold can of Pepsi to his hot face. “In my trunk. Before we left for the hospital, I just threw it in there.”

A strange expression came onto Nancy’s face. He couldn’t tell if it was gratitude or surprise. But then she smiled, and relief washed through him. “No, that’s okay. You can keep it,” she said, then took a long sip of her beer, taking several swallows before she stopped.

After a couple seconds of silence, Steve looking down at his Pepsi, wondering how red his face was, Jonathan spoke. “We can go sit in my room if you guys want,” he said. Both Steve and Nancy nodded, so Jonathan took up his Pepsi and gestured for them to follow him.

It wasn’t what Steve expected, though he hadn’t expected anything at all—he hadn’t given Jonathan’s room a thought.

More he was thinking about how odd the hallway looked without strings of Christmas lights. And grateful the smell of burning flesh was completely gone. There was a lingering scent of cigarette smoke in the hallway, but it faded once they stepped into Jonathan’s room.

There were shelves of vinyl records and cassette tapes under the window on one wall, the twin bed in the middle, the closet on the other side. The dresser was on the wall by the door, covered in several stacks of tapes, school books, paperbacks, and half-finished homework assignments. There was no desk.

Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” was playing on low volume on the tape player. Steve wanted to sigh with relief. The silence had begun to be deafening.

“Is that incense?” Nancy asked, pointing to a smoking stick on Jonathan’s nightstand.

“Uh, yeah. Helps with the cigarette smell,” Jonathan said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s nice,” Nancy said, taking a sip of beer, then smiling at Jonathan. She seemed more relaxed, Steve noticed. Her shoulders weren’t as tense, and she wasn’t folding her arms anymore.

“Do you smoke?” Steve asked.

“No. Well, only weed. Incense helps with that, too,” Jonathan said, half-smiling. Nancy gave Steve a significant look, and Steve realized he was smiling at Jonathan’s words.

Steve cleared his throat. “Does…your mom not mind that either?”

Jonathan's smile grew wider. “Are you kidding? She gave me my first joint.” He looked between Steve and Nancy. “Have you guys ever smoked before?”

Nancy shook her head. Steve shrugged. “Only once at a party. But it was a pipe, I don’t think I knew how to get a hit off it.”

Jonathan was shaking his head, opening a drawer in his nightstand. “Pipes take a while to get used to. I have one, but you can try a joint.” He looked up at Steve while still searching the drawer. “If you want?”

Steve only just noticed he’d been holding a closed can of Pepsi in his hand this whole time, and opened it to find an excuse to look away. “Yeah sure. Nancy, is that okay? You don’t have to smoke,” he said, looking at her.

She was taking another long sip of beer, and shook her head before speaking. “No, I want to try.” She moved to sit on the bed, watching Jonathan. Steve sat to her left, to better see what Jonathan was taking out. It looked like a slightly bigger hand-rolled cigarette.

There was a lighter in Jonathan’s other hand, and as Jonathan sat down next to him, something occurred to Steve.

“Hey Jonathan, we’re not blowing off your photos, you know right? I still want to see them,” Steve said.

The second after he said it, Steve actually wanted to punch himself. What kept making him talk like this? He didn’t even know what _this_ was.

When Jonathan turned to look at him, Steve glanced down almost unconsciously to check the space between them, wanting to know if he was too close. For Jonathan’s comfort, not his.

Neither of them moved for a split second, just stared at each other. Then Jonathan actually grinned. Steve had never known him to be capable of the expression.

“I wouldn’t’ve thought that, Steve,” he said.

Steve felt an elbow poke him gently in the side. “I still want to see them, too,” Nancy said, and Steve turned his head to see her leaning forward to grin at Jonathan. Was it just the lighting or were her cheeks pink?

Jonathan actually laughed, the first time Steve had ever heard him genuinely laugh. For some reason Steve couldn’t name, it made him less nervous.

“I’ll tell you something, even I think my photography looks better when I’m high. So this is all for the best,” Jonathan said, holding up the joint between middle and forefinger. And, still smiling, he put the end of the joint in his mouth and flicked the lighter.


	4. January Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request fill originally posted to tumblr, but I wrote it in the same fic-verse as this timeline, so I realized after finishing it that it fits perfectly into this multi-chapter fic. It does not mention any poly feelings/feelings for Jonathan on Nancy's part, because I was holding to the prompt request, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have them. ;)

He was the first to say “I love you,” and she panicked.

In his car, the dashboard glowing with the time, minutes before her Saturday curfew: 10:13pm. She had to be in the house by 10:30 or she would be grounded.

It was a Saturday in January 1984. Just over two months since Barb had disappeared. The last thing Nancy wanted was to be stuck at home because she’d gotten grounded for being home late. She couldn’t be stuck at home, with no one but her parents, Holly, and Mike for company. Mike, who was angry and jumpy at once, as if he expected the girl, El, to walk through the door at any moment.

She panicked at the thought of being unable to escape the suffocating monotony of her house, her parents, the suffocating reality that Barb was not a phone call away anymore.

But now, with Steve’s words echoing in her head, a different sort of suffocation engulfed her. White noise filled her head, and she couldn’t speak.  

She jumped when Steve’s hand touched hers, clenched in her lap.

“Nancy,” he said, softly. Not her nickname, Nance, but the whole two syllables. He never called her by her nickname when he was serious.

She kept her hand clenched in a fist beneath his. His hand was warm and heavy. She looked out at the darkness beyond his windshield, seeing nothing.

“I…”  _I love you._  She wanted to say it. Why couldn’t she say it?

“Hey, you’re shaking. C’mere.”

And he was lifting the console so he could pull her closer to him, tucking her into his side. She only felt her body trembling when she pressed herself against him, hiding her face in his chest. He smelled of expensive cologne and the hairspray only he used, that helped make his soft hair even softer.

“You don’t want to love someone like me, Steve,” she said, her words muffled against his sweater, but still audible.

Both his arms were around her, and they squeezed her tighter. She felt tears welling up. She pushed them back, now clenching the fabric of his sweater. She couldn’t look at him.

“Why would you say that?” he said, his words strangely empty of feeling. She knew she’d hurt him, and hated herself more for it.

“Because I’m…” She couldn’t say  _“a murderer”_. That was too dramatic, even to herself. But she was so full of guilt. Every day it ate at her. Why would Steve love her?

“I don’t deserve someone like you,” she choked out, keeping her body stiff against his gentle hold, hoping he wouldn’t force her to look at him.

He just held her, and she could almost hear him thinking, knowing that she’d said things like this before, trying to figure out a different way to approach her stubborn self-hatred.

But Nancy knew she was right. And if she told him she loved him now, he would always hope. Hope that things would work out after high school, that they would stay together. But Nancy  _didn’t know_. She felt broken and stupid and worthless, and no matter how kind Steve was to her, she could never be the partner he deserved in return.

But she knew telling him “I love you” would not be a lie. Her love for Steve was an ache in her heart, but an ache that didn’t hurt. It was separate from the guilt and the pain of Barb’s loss. When he touched her, held her, kissed her, all she wanted was to melt into him and take all his worry away. Worry for her, for his future, for their future.

So she did the only thing she thought she could do. She slowly lifted her head from his chest, avoiding his eyes, and put her hands to his cheeks, framing his face.

“Just kiss me Goodnight, Steve. Please,” she whispered, staring at his lips, knowing he was looking straight into her eyes.

There was a pause, and she was afraid he would speak, try to counter her words. Her heart pounded, and she bit her lip, watching his own lips part.

And he leaned forward. She quickly closed the distance between them, pressing her mouth hard against his. He pulled her back against him, deepening and gentling the kiss at once. She felt his jaw move against her hand as he kissed her, his heartbeat against hers, the subtle smell of male sweat under his cologne. And for a moment she forgot about time completely. There was only Steve, his heat, his steady presence, and his love for her thrumming through her like her own heartbeat.

She opened her front door at 10:29, knowing her lipstick was horribly smeared but not letting herself care what her mom thought of her. Not this time.


End file.
